Little Ripples
by storytellers
Summary: Set after the events of Softer from the Women of the Opera Challenge but I guess it could be read on its own. Erik and Carlotta adapt to something new in their lives. Also this is for those of you who requested a bit more tenderness between those two.


Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters (with the exception of Sophie) and I make no profit. Poem's mine though so please don't use it without permission.

A/N: This has been finished for ages but it was supposed to be posted after the direct sequel to "Softer" since it is set after the events there. However, said sequel is going slower than I thought and I got tired of this little thing gathering dust so here it is. It was also supposed to be the first chapter of the last planned installment in the Carlotta series but I think it can stand on its own just as well.

This piece is about change - how necessary it is and how we adapt to something new in our lives. For those of you who have not read "Softer", Erik and Carlotta are together in this one. Actually, by the time this happens, they are already married. And I promise you'll like the pairing, strange as it may seem to you!

**Little Ripples**

Little ripples in the water

Of the lake as days grow hotter…

Are they there by mistake?

Are they injuring the lake?

Yesterday it was so nice –

A silver mirror made of ice.

Now spring is here and I'm afraid

My world will have to be remade.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She was born in late winter, in that cruel, wild weather when the resident snowstorms were being dragged kicking and screaming to the other end of the world in order to make room for spring.

Everything important always seems to happen at that time for Erik and me, between these two seasons. A time of change, when everything is moving, growing, alive.

Winter refused to go without a fight this year. The wind banged on the windows of our house as little Sophie Destler cried for the first time in my arms. The sound was almost completely lost in the howling of the storm but I was relieved she had cried at all. She was far too frail and yellowish for a healthy baby and it was with a heavy heart that I gazed into those sunken grayish eyes.

Both Erik and I knew we were risking a lot having a baby at this age. I wasn't too old but then again, at 37 I wasn't exactly the perfect age for childbirth either. I was absolutely terrified to do it but Erik had been so desperate for a child I could not bear to tell him no. My own maternal instinct was shyly raising its head at the thought of having a baby and so it eventually overcame my fears.

But still, in the back of our minds a wicked little voice kept insisting something would go wrong.

Erik was afraid she might be born deformed like him, knowing that such a face, if hard to deal with for a man would be

completely devastating to a woman.

I was afraid my baby may not survive at all.

As it turned out, Sophie was certainly not deformed but she wasn't the healthiest child either.

She got sick a lot and I often had to fight with Erik when I wanted to take her out. I tried to reason with him that keeping her locked a way was not going to protect her from anything. The truth was, I felt much less confident as a mother than I showed him. I doubted myself every step of the way. But at least one of us had to cast the fears aside and I knew Erik was having a hard time with that. He had never actually believed he would become a father, much less actually live with a wife and child. I tried not to worry too much and relied on my instincts but Erik just couldn't stop overanalyzing. Despite all of that though, he did things for Sophie I don't think I could have achieved. There were moments when he amazed me, when he seemed to possess some secret knowledge of Sophie's heart and soul, of what was good and right for her.

It took her a long time to learn to walk and talk. When a year and a half had passed without her uttering a single word I was convinced she never would. Erik outright refused to accept that possibility. He would lock them both in the nursery and try to teach her to speak. I thought nothing was coming out of it until one morning she walked unsteadily to me and to the astonishment of us both said: "Mama, I want a biscuit".

She just started talking with full sentences from then on. We were so happy we threw a party and invited half of Paris.

And yet Erik's adoration for her sometimes scared me. He wasn't specifically spoiling her by buying her toys and clothes like some men tended to do with their daughters, (she was a little spoiled by nature anyway; she had after all her mother's genes). But I could sense how many hopes he had for her, how many plans he made in his head, although he wouldn't voice them.

I knew Erik. And I knew the signs of him becoming obsessed. But after our marriage he had always let me share his obsessions… until Sophie came along.

I wouldn't say it was like Christine all over again but it was too close for my liking. It had started slowly, almost unnoticeably but by the time she was ten and old enough for everything he wanted to teach her, it had become Papa and his little girl with Mamma somewhere in the background.

Being the attention-loving creature that I was, I could not bare being pushed out of the picture.

I kept my thoughts to myself for quite a while not wanting to be accused of being childish and wanting to rob a little girl of her father's attention.

But I have never taken such things lightly and I didn't this time.

I specifically demanded Erik's attention. Sometimes it worked. But sometimes he would just give me an annoyed stare and ask me to leave the room because I was in the way of their music lesson. The first time this happened I was too speechless to protest but I went back to the bedroom and cried my heart out without even knowing why. I knew it was irrational and I knew he hadn't really meant to offend me but I still felt completely abandoned. When he came up an hour later excitingly chattering about our daughter's musical talents, I was roughly wiping make-up from my face, pretending that was the reason for the redness of my eyes. I hated being caught crying by him over something like that. He would just call me silly.

As he sat on the bed, though, his hand absently brushed the surface of the pillow and he froze. He must have felt it was wet. I moved my gaze from watching him in the vanity mirror to unnecessarily brushing the ends of my hair. I wouldn't answer questions if he didn't ask them.

But somehow I wanted him to ask.

A moment later I felt a soft kiss placed on my neck and an 'I'm sorry' whispered in my ear.

A very thin smile found its way to my lips. So he had paid enough attention to quickly figure out what was wrong. But I wasn't feeling completely ready to forgive yet.

With no extra chair in front of the vanity Erik made himself comfortable on the floor leaning on my thigh and fixing me with a comically remorseful stare. I rolled my eyes, fighting a giggle.

Erik had not so much changed over the years but added new aspects to his personality. When the two of us had first met he had basically had two expressions – menacing and heartbroken. He was so much more alive now. It was my greatest pride that I was part of the reason.

And it was an ongoing process. Each year there was one more smile, one more lesson, one more little detail. My heart swelled each time I noticed something like that.

And that is why I loved him. He was powerful and childish and so… complicated.

_Ah, but still just a man,_ I thought with an inner chuckle when his hands sneaked around my waist and he started to pull me from the chair.

_To fall in love with Erik__ Destler in the first place…_

His hand was now untying the ribbons in my hair…

_To really fall in love…_

… and those on my corset.

_Beyond any childish infatuations with a fairytale like Christine's…_

"I hate this dress." He whispered in my hair with a tone that was still light and joking but hinting at desire that I was proud to still inspire in him. I intended to do so for many more years to come. Whatever anyone wanted to think of my age, with Erik I was 25 and not a day older.

_To realize that you want the man behind the mask AND the mask AND the cape AND the strange moods AND the not-forgotten-enough past… _

We collapsed on the bed in a mess of half-shed clothes, lips locked and hands tangled in the other's hair.

_It's hard._

_But once I'd done that… I fell in love with him over and over again._

Erik drew back a little to look at me, still half-amused.

"See, that's why I try to get away from you every once in a while. Otherwise this is what we'd be doing the whole time."

I really did laugh this time and he smiled.

"Don't be angry with me for Sophie, Cara, most fathers dote on their daughters."

"I wasn't angry. Just a little… sad, I suppose, that I'm not as exciting as she."

"Carlotta-a!" he threw his head back in exasperation. "Can't you share the spotlight with your own child for a little while?"

I frowned and crossed my arms, not quite achieving the dignified look I was aiming for since I was lying beneath him. I tried glaring at him as best I could.

"I knew you would say that. But I am not the one turning this into a competition between me and Sophie, Erik! I love her! I'm her mother! I just don't want to have to fight for you…"

He shook his head and took my hand to place it on his deformed cheek.

"You don't have to fight. You won a long time ago. Sometimes lovers come and go but how would I ever replace my best friend? You defined me. You're part of me. I love you and always will."

Now, what could I have possibly said to that? I kissed him, giving up on the matter, mostly because I wanted to take advantage of this moment when he actually _was_ there and he _was_ paying me attention. And he felt guilty enough that he had made me cry to do anything I wanted.

Since right then I wanted him, that couldn't have been very hard.

xxx

A/N: And this is it for now but you will probably hear a bit more about those two. Just like any author I have to ask you to PLEASE review since everyone needs feedback. So... Pretty please?


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